You spend more time with me
than with any of your lovers,
you pass a Third of Life
with parents, partners,
children, loving wife,
underneath, or atop my covers.
I am your basis -
your foundation and support
by conception and
at birth and death,
from the first faint wail
to your final breath.
As sleepyhead, insomniac,
or with fevered brow
and reddened cheeks,
I'm there for you somehow,
even when you leave me
with sweat-soaked, twisted sheets.
A frame of brass or wood,
a mattress soft or firm,
waterbed or hammock,
four-poster or futon,
single, double, king-size,
twin, or room to toss and turn.
Beneath me a treasure trove of
lost, forgotten things,
in darkness gathering dust,
preservatives and wedding rings,
comforters and teddy bears,
stale bread with mouldy crust.
I'm omnipresent, in hotels,
brothels, hospitals and homes,
barracks, homeless shelters,
caves and even catacombs,
where tenants or a passing guest
can lay their weary head to rest.