Apologies that never came

Wilted sorrys have now become leaves
In autumn, they jump spring and fall
Like dominoes in winter.
Dark thick clouds own this sky;
Kerosene then pours,
How hurtful and how sly.
Apologies turn Binta,
Ready to rain curses and brawl.
Despite being at fault, she’ll roll her sleeves.

Just like the farmer patiently waits
For the pregnant cloud to give birth,
We waited the same way too.
But our cloud’s birth was still,
She had miscarried,
Or flushed out with a pill.
We waited in dawn and dew,
The sorrys never came to earth.
Maybe when they’ll come, they’ll come in crates.

Younglan Louis