Sparrows occasionally flutter by,
negotiating the miles of barbed wire
that encircle the air and the building.
In one room the lights flick on off on off.
The officers apologized before
fixing the zipties around our pale wrists
so loose we could have slipped our hands out.The lights blinked and we knew they could hear us
inside. They struck the windows, the shadowsof many hands pounding the frosted glass.