The speaker seems to be the Sandman himself, the figure who sprinkles sand to bring sleep, but he sounds lost and a little weary. He opens with a question, "where am I," and carries his bag of sand like a burden, even "like a bad condition," something he can't shake. The comparison suggests that his job feels more like an illness than a gift.
The poem's sounds do a lot of the work. "Nest to press rest" is soft and lulling, almost a lullaby, and the idea of a small nest brings comfort and safety. But the line "every body a nothing that I am taking" is stranger and darker. Sleep here seems close to erasure, as if everyone he visits becomes empty. The repeated "home and home and home" can read as longing, or as a loop he can't escape. The mood is drowsy, lonely, and slightly uneasy, like the confusion of falling asleep.