I received the book my poem's in today. It's called Bird Before Landing.
Here is the poem. In hindsight, it's not that 'poetic' but I guess they didn't get enough entries! I also wanted to call it 'Mann St, Gosford' but thought better.

The Bus-stop

Aged women strutting past
Frizzy blonde hair, eyes lined in black
And cigarrette smoke staying where it is
I am a sitting target for older ladies
With noone to talk to

Young drivers showing off
Their new sound systems, V8s and spoilers
The centre of attention till the lights go green
Where are they going?

A hopeful enquiry of the time
To the girl in the selective school uniform
And a patronising reply

That same homeless man
Bright yellow tracksuit pants, and a long beard
No luck with that garbage bin

A chronology of her day shopping
And the spots and lines on her face
Three empty shops
Another brave attempt
But not enough business
This bus might be hers
If I can read what it says for her?

A three year old
Cherishes her McMeal
The teenage mother, folds up the stroller
And I think I saw some tears

Yes it is quite windy today.
But maybe she's had a fantastic life
Travelling the world, grown up kids
Romantic dreams...

This is my bus. Finally!
Bye.  ¶ 16:54