Blind Spot

The cop asked if the van was white or tan.

I told him I’ve lived here three years.

I walk past that hydrant every morning

on my way to the station.

I couldn't tell him if the paint was red

or that safety orange that looks like rust.

I know the cracks in the sidewalk,

the way the curb is chipped near the drain,

but the big things just turn into a blur

when you’re looking for your keys.