Wanna run in the rain, little bird?
In our clothes, Mom?
Why not?  

Cold rain caught our breath,
sucked our clothes skin-tight.
Sturdy little legs ran chuckles,
spun like a spinning top.  

I scooped her up, held her close,
skin to skin warm. She leaned
back, spread slender arms wide,
like wings, turned her face upward,
opened her mouth and tasted rain.  

And I did the same.