I stand next to the gas nozzle, 

Tapping my foot nervously against the ashen snow,

Check my watch again 

See the seconds pass 

Watch as regular 87 pumps through the tube, 

Go

Hurry

     Please

The digits of gallons filled

Slowly rising 

As the gas

Drip 

Drip

Drips

So            s         l       o        w      

Thinking of the time I'm wasting

Just standing here

Feet itching for the opportunity 

    to hit the gas pedal 

                        to take my test

          to become certified 

Fingers trembling from the bitter February chill, 

Mind racing to remember every medical detail

Feet tapping against the ashen snow

My stomach flipping

Will I make it to the lab?

Both eyes on the golden sun, 

A vivid image in my head,

The same sun I’ll stare at in 10 years 

With a stethoscope around my neck 

Lab coat on my shoulders

Prescription pad in my right pocket 

Pulse oximeter in my left pocket

And patients smiling when they see me from the hall

Hopefully, I’ll make it on time to the test

So the possibility awaits 

Will I make it as a doctor?

The chugging stops,

The machine chirps, 

I stick the nozzle back, 

Then zoom away before the testing bell rings 

Will I make it?