Lessons at the Legendary Institute for Yarn Spinning

“Embuste,” Abuela said. 
            A more polite way to say 
                        “Lie!” or “Liar!” Not true

that story told—a tale 
            spun from cobwebs 
                        and a trail of smoke, 

so flimsy it crumbled 
            with the weight of 
                        its fiction. Embuste,

gentle reprimand, anger 
            demoted to delight, 
                        perhaps even pride.

Not for the brazenness  
            but for the embroidery.  
                        And then her lively eyes 

narrowed, warning us: 
            less hasty stitching  
                        next time. Sturdier thread.