In the Memphis Airport - Timothy Steele

Above the concourse, from a beam,
A little warbler pours forth song.
Beneath him, hurried humans stream:
Some draw wheeled suitcases along
Or from a beeping belt or purse
Apply a cell phone to an ear;
Some pause at banks of monitors
Where times and gates for flights appear.

Although by nature flight-endowed,
He seems too gentle to reproach
These souls who soon will climb through cloud
In first class, business class, and coach.
He may feel that it's his mistake
He’s here, but someone ought to bring
A net to catch and help him make
His own connections north to spring.

He cheeps and trills on, swift and sweet,
Though no one outside hears his strains.
There, telescopic tunnels greet
The cheeks of their arriving planes;
A ground crew welcomes and assists
Luggage that skycaps, treating bags
Like careful ornithologists,
Banded with destination tags.

I really liked the imagery in this poem. I have been at the airport and seen little birds lost inside. They just chirp and chirp with no means of an escape. People rush by with their luggage trying to make it to their destination, busy with their own lives.

I also liked how they said that skycaps were like careful ornithologists when getting the bags off of an arriving plane. I thought it was kind of ironic. Skycaps and ground crew just toss our luggage around once it is tagged and we can't see it anymore and it usually comes back beat up, so for them to be compared to someone gently studying birds made me laugh a little bit.