Osprey from climes further southTo the Vineyard soon shall returnJ. Robinson, sadly, not here to heraldTheir predictable and sublime sojournNo more poetic and lyrical refrainsNo more watching out, no photos, no proseSweet Julian, how deeply sad your passingThe birds too, surely, will require recomposeThe seasons will pass, ever changingAvians, they will come and they will goBut absent your loving observationsFewer of us, their triumphant arrival, will knowI delighted always in your easy poeticsI relish my memories of you, so clearRest well dearest Julian RobinsonIn my mind’s eye you’ll always be near
