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