Gramma's Four-poster Bed
That big ol' four-poster bed...
yeah, bet it weighed a ton.
Gramma's thick feather mattress
and the old metal springs,
heavy old quilt made of patches
of every kind of cloth you can imagine...
When I was a kid I used to take my naps
on Gramma's old four-poster bed,
and I thought I was in high cotton
'cause I had the best place in the whole wide world
to take a nap...
deep, heavy, soft, warm....
that old feather mattress was more comfortable
than anything I could ever imagine
being lucky enough to sleep on....
To that point I had slept on some kind of a mix
of different things -
couches and chairs shoved together,
benches in bus waiting rooms,
car seats rolling along back country roads
in the middle of the night
from Memphis to Little Rock,
and then over the top of the Rockies.
Hell, I've even slept on blankets and pillows
in a bathtub.
We were poor.
I didn't know or understand that word,
but it's what we were.
Riding all over the place in an old 50's Ford wagon,
rusted at the bottom and back,
couple holes in the floor so you could see the road,
and I never knew where we were going,
no one ever told me anything.
I was just a kid.
Kids don't count.
They don't need to know anything.
But one time....
this one time, oh, it was special.
We were at Gramma's place.
Don't remember when, don't remember why,
but I do remember being told to take a nap,
and Gramma taking me to her room
and there was that huge old four-poster bed.
Big? I should say so.
Mattress on the top looked to be a foot or more thick,
big full wall window-doors to the side,
and she opened them to let the air in,
and there was a light spring rain out there,
and it just smelled so good, you know?
and I took off my shoes and climbed up
on that high old four-poster bed
and leaned back into that old feather pillow,
and looked up at the dark boards that were the ceiling,
as the mattress sort of wrapped up around me,
cradling me, and I felt comfortable for the first time,
the first time I actually felt good about going to sleep...
this wasn't the back of a car, a wooden bench
or some chairs shoved together...
this.... this was luxury.
This was the most comfortable place that I had ever slept,
and I didn't want to ever leave there.
I swear I could have died right there,
and I would have been happy.
We were there a summer, I guess,
and then we moved on,
and while I no longer remember much about much then,
I still remember that old four-poster bed
with the feather pillows and the feather mattress
and how great it felt to lay there and nap.
I bet that I smiled when I fell asleep
in Gramma's old four-poster bed.
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