I
Driftwood
 

My forefathers gave me
  My spirit's shaken flame,
The shape of hands, the beat of heart,
  The letters of my name.

But it was my lovers,
  And not my sleeping sires,
Who gave the flame its changeful
  And iridescent fires;

As the driftwood burning
  Learned its jewelled blaze
From the sea's blue splendor
  Of colored nights and days.