A sunset on the hill

A sunset on the hill by Gianfranco Aurilio I ran after the sun along the river, where the flowers are reflected in the morning wetting the petals in water colored with light, unfolding the stems to the wind, like sails on the sea. I ran after him among blades of grass that touch the sky, between voices and perfumes of green meadows in spring. Under the branches of lime trees over hidden dens beside prickly brambles inside you were hidden beyond the pond behind the bridge near frightened foxes away from curious hawks I ran after the sun without stopping to see it disappear slowly before me on the hill.