Back when the pants she wore were called dungarees
the tomboy and I roughhoused in the backyard at Bradley’s house
where a trellis produced white roses you could eat, so I was told
I had suspected a trick
but they tasted sweet
Amid the grappling and grunting
suddenly a mystery scent arose
an odd presence reached from the soil beneath us
puzzling the space surrounding us
We stopped
looked at each other and moved apart
We didn’t wrestle again
Wow, this is fantastic! My take on this is an awareness of each other’s bodies that went beyond wrestling like two puppies and created discomfort and unease, though there are different directions in meaning the poem could take to others because of its subtlety. You capture that elusive poetic quality that is so difficult to create for many poets, that sweet spot of ambiguity and almost understanding on the part of the reader. Lovely.