peach rings

i’ve read a hundred poems about oranges, 
but I like peach rings better. i like
how they sparkle in my little sister’s callused hands, 
and how when i hold the bag out,
there is no grief in giving, only 
the kindest aftertaste and sweetness 
that lasts for days.  
even my brother,
having sworn off sugar in favor of push-ups 
and early morning runs, extends his palm
and whispers a thank you when i pour him the small curls of light.