It Was All a Dream
by Vaughn Neeld

One afternoon about a year ago,
while listening to the thunder of
departing jets at the airport,
I anxiously watched the windsock.

I was surprised at my bravery
as I went through baggage-check
and those invasive X-ray machines.
I quailed at the thought of this long flight;
I had heard so many catastrophic tales.

As my plane zoomed down the runway,
my heart raced along with it.
My destination was a place
I'd never dreamed I'd ever see.
I pulled out my travel diary to record
what would surely become fond memories.

At the Cancun airport, I panicked
at the prospect of finding my way
through a city whose language I didn't know.
I hesitated. Suddenly, a hand reached for mine.

Flabbergasted, I looked up
into a pair of very blue eyes
that shone with welcome.
As my body responded to his unspoken invitation,
I blushed. Yet, trustingly, I followed him
to the carousel to rescue our luggage.

Outside, he hailed a cab.
We drove through enchanting street scenes
to finally arrive at the hotel.
He escorted me to check-in, smiled,
nodded, turned away.

Later, from the balcony of my upstairs room,
I drank in the view of red tile roofs
atop gleaming white stucco casas
lining the street that descended
to an inviting stretch of white sand beach.

Wearing my new leather sandals,
I browsed among quaint shops
that offered kitsch, gifts to take home as souvenirs.
And, then, without missing a step,
walking beside me was that handsome stranger
who in just a few days,
would nuzzle his way into my heart.

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