Hills and hills

The hills

remind me

of you

Not because

they curve soft and warm

lovely and firm

under the Greek sun

Or flow

towards the horizon

in slow limpid waves

falling away mysteriously

at the edge of the sea

So that I can only surmise

their being there

beyond my gaze

and stare into the greyness

But because

a long time ago

you stared at them

as I am staring now