Excitement grips at me like a blood-thirsty mosquito,
anticipation greets me at the slick green door
when I take that step,
    a step like a giant, a step like a lion –
    fierce, confident, ready.
The seat, like a cold winter morning,
bites at the fabric of my pants.
The clink of the metal, like a key greeting a doorknob,
straps me in like a baby’s first diaper.
    Shaking hands grasp the wheel,
    as the groundhog sticks his head out
    for the first time in months –
he sticks it back in with the roar of the engine.
Hand on the stick, eyes on the sea of asphalt,
right foot on the brake, heart in my mouth.

I hit the gas. Time to go.