FAILURE TO ISTHMUS

The land beneath my feet

has been narrowing

and I did not know it.

But I do now.

The geography I see,

that I thought would meet mine—

a trick of the eye—

does not, cannot.

An ocean is the edge I come to.

Ocean is what’s between.

A bridge…

How do I make one from here

when everything I’d use to do so 

I left behind?