A dove sits on the roof and coos.
A nearby dove pretends to snooze.
She flirts, flitters, and flies away.
He chases her; he wants to play.
They fly up in a big tall tree
Where curious boys cannot see.
The next day they build a nest
Out of hay and all the rest.
On the third day little eggs sit
Under mother, warm woolen mitt.
Finally ends long, long wait,
(That, I assure you, all birds hate!)
Tiny little chicks finally emerge
And lovingly look at the two big birds.
Their mother smiles, their father grins.
They have something to take pride in,
That they chose life, because, you know, after all,
“A person’s a person, no matter how small.”