at Houston George Bush International, snow globes
pose a threat to flight security.
Blizzards must be surrendered or seized, slipped
through the flip-lid of a concourse metal can.
Whole ceramic cities in miniature banned,
winters binned, destined for nowhere.
Mount Rushmore floored, a Golden Gate prostrate,
the Empire State leaning: all hazards.
No flurry jogged in cabin lockers overhead,
no light fall on take-off in carry-on bags.
In the back office the air is still. Monuments wait
to be shaken by an agent on a passport break.