To A Woman Gone Poem by mimi brown

The house on the corner was empty.
When I passed by, there were no
reminders of us having lived
on the third floor with the slanted
ceilings and the mice.
I do not know how long you stayed
after I left so abruptly
with half my books and all my love.
A friend said you moved to the ocean.
Another said you may have died.
Still another claimed you moved
to Arizona where the air
helped your lungs.
All I know is this:
the windows were dark,
the wind chased me down the block,
and you were gone.