Raising Nestlings

Not too close cautions my
husband, careful you'll alarm her,
she's sitting on eggs. Yes, I
knew that, the constant concerned
presence of the soon-to-be papa
hovering on nearby tree branches
is itself a continual reminder
that though I had the impression
that this is my backyard, I must
also acknowledge it is the 
nature-entitled venue of a pair
of robins' nursery, carefully
assembled under a joist of the
elevated deck. Why here, when
a perfectly acceptable urban forest
of respectable dimensions is
but a moment's flight distance?
Yes, I know, it is the obstinence
of the female of the species.