By Sandra Rippetoe © 2026

Mockingbird and Mourning Dove
sat in the tall shrub together –
an unlikely pair of friends
being birds of a different feather.

“Your melodies are exceptional.
You know all the best songs.
I can only say coo-coo,”
Dove complained all day long.

“I can’t copy your tones
though I know tunes by the dozens,”
chirped  Mockingbird. “Show respect . . .
for yourself . . . and your cousins!
All over the world
in big cities and small towns,
people hear your kinfolk
making lovely cooing sounds.
Sometimes disasters happen.
Things are right but then go wrong.
You’re a gentle reminder of life
as you sweetly sing your song.
Your cooing is a comfort
during sad times filled with grief.
Doves know how to survive
beyond the trees’ leaf.
Do you know you’re admired?
And considered a bird of peace?
What if you had to honk all day,
in a flying formation, like geese?
I say, hold your head up high.
Be proud you’re a dove.
A symbol against war.
A symbol for love.”

Mourning Dove began to strut a bit,
Mockingbird had been heard,
“I may not be very musical,
but, I am  . . . I am an important special bird!”

When the sun rises at dawn –
dazzling sparkles in the dew,
listen carefully and you may hear
Dove’s soft, but confident, coo.