The trees that have it in their pent-up way To toss in the evening wind their low heads Toward the sky, are those that will not play Needles for planting, or for pantry sheds.

The other trees that from the earth rise up Want only open sky to give them birth: Those that are too much crowded in cannot Thrive and hold their heads up to the earth.

And some that do can never throw a veil Of foliage on the ground to keep it warm And less exposed to all that winter’s hale And general frost can do to spoil a form.

For some lose all their leaves too soon one year, And some turn red and gold in their career.

• Robert Frost