The Senate

Outback, where the town is small or old enough 

There is a Senate convening once a day 

Or weekly somewhere in a diner or cafe 

At counter seats or tables drawn together 

As randomly democratic as the members.

Grey heads in baseball caps presiding over 

Men walking stooped and slow 

Sitting silent in each other’s presence 

Or softly hearing the freshest news 

Considering the consequential truths 

Digesting the daily moments, muffins 

washed down with dishwater coffee. 

Citizens in the Republic of the Ordinary 

Finding community, some back row dignity

Sharing wonderment and wisdom 

Health doubts and home discourses 

To the echo of Billy Joel and CCR  

Crooning softly in the air. 

Eternal flame, eternal life, you’re always on my mind 

‘Cause no one ever really dies at Graceland. 

 © Philip Knight 2018