“Tree at my Window” by Robert Frost

Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
between you and me.

Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground,
And thing next most diffuse to cloud:
Not all your light tongues talking aloud
Could be profound.

But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,
You have seen me when I was taken and swept
and all but lost.

That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her —
Your head so much concerned with outer.
Mine with inner, weather.

Robert Frost
(posted in honor of my pomelo tree)