Thanksgiving

I have a bed.
I lay there a couple of nights ago and it flashed by my brain. I had to seize on it almost peripherally to have the time to examine this grateful spasm of the often ignored.
Think of the countless other places a man might be given to sleep.
I have been given a bed.
Thank God, for all good endowments come down from the Father of Lights!
Unlike Jacob, in history or hymn, "my rest [is not] a stone."
I sleep nightly on a pancake stack of padded bliss with a fluffy pillow wrapped 'bout my head.
I have a bed.

Do you have one?