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.