poem, Isabel

Waiting on a downtown sidewalk
At a bus stop at the end of the day
And watching the passersby,
I noticed this girl.
She walked by about 5:02.
Heading home, maybe?
I didn't know.
She just looked to me
Like someone fictional made real
And I decided to reverse the process.

She was pretty, slight of stature,
Always wore her hair tied back
And walked a certain way,
With confidence, purpose and a sense
Of detachment.
I gave her a name, a job,
A destination.
I created friends, parents, family,
And a lonely admirer at the bus stop.

This admirer, he imagined
Ways to attract her attention.
He wished he could talk to her
And walk her home.
It took another setting, though,
For her to notice.
She recognized him from
The bus stop she passed every day.

Now they're busy discovering each other
And they blame it all on that downtown sidewalk
Where I still stand at the end of the day
Waiting for the bus, and
Watching my inspiration walk by about 5:02.
What would she say if she knew
Who I had made her?