A Mysterious Place Poem by Owen Yang

My first impression as we get off the airplane is that the air is murky and dirty.
While waiting during the flight transfer, I look at pictures of the island's natural fauna and flora.
In the air accompanied by the droning engine, I see one of the tallest skyscrapers in the entire world.
I lick my lips, anticipating the sweet taste of guavas and other tropical fruits.
Along with the fruit comes pineapple cake, a delicacy not found in the U.S.
I look out the window, thinking of the ocean air right below us.
I am impatient to get to my relatives' homes, having not seen them for a long time.
I see that a new upscale apartment has sprung up next to my aunt's home.
A row of motorbikes are parked along the small alleyway in which my aunt lives.
Sounds of construction come from about a mile away.
The country has developed since I went, but the air quality has gotten worse along with it.
It is turning into both a paradise and nightmare at the same time.