Dinner with Monday on Valentine's Day

I've been thinking a lot lately about how some poets include within their poetry characters that we might not actually encounter and write them as as if they were real. More specifically, my inspiration on this front is Billy Collins. I read a poem by him the other day called "Shoveling Snow With Buddha." Now, my poem isn't as great as his by any means, but it's just what came to me as I was thinking about it and it also happened to be Valentines day.

Dinner with Monday on Valentine’s Day
We sit on the same side of the booth
and share one plate, one set of utensils.

The waiter leaves us with our water
and our silence, like a romantic ocean
rising within us, then pulling us in.

I wonder who else feels the tide,
while fans stir the air like a cold drink.

This close together, I notice the total eclipse,
her eyes: reddish black moons suspended
between the dim light and the long weekend.

Back then, we were both unloved it seemed,
waiting for our turn to roll around,
as if heaven was made of perfect circles,

as if worlds revolved around shining stars
brought together from the vacuum of space.

But love is more than patterns and appearances.
It is as close her scarf around my neck,
and yet pervades like overhead lamps

so much that the unobservant waiter might not notice
the difference between her and my flickering shadow.

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With this poem, I was trying to capture a sense a being at peace with oneself and not worrying. It just occurred to me just now as I'm writing this that a bit of this poem may well being comfortable with the future and waiting for it. In that light I felt that even though the character in this poem may well be alone (remember, poetry is fiction) he may not feel out of place or alone or unloved at that moment. Special things happen with love; love doesn't always come in the expected form or from the people we expect. Sometimes we feel that love and assurance from God in more difficult times that everything will turn out well. Sometimes it is love transmitted from others out of kindness or concern or friendship. Anyway, I'm just thinking out loud, trying to explain my thoughts as I was writing the poem. More than anything, what I want from my poetry is to produce a feeling in the reader and so from this one, I hope that the reader can feel and identify with both the the mixed comfort and loneliness that the character feels. And if not, what do you feel? Does it work at all? Suggestions please, I love it.