everything is new

the treeless
boulevard
now new, once
a forest
full of green,
a meadow,
a barn with
rotted beams,
a red roof
caved in.
the boxed houses
rise
one per day
along black
pavement,
white
sidewalks
and gas lights.
a hose fills
up the lake nearby,
almost full.
the new trees
will
be ribbed
in burlap
to save them
from the cold,
held upright
by wires, against
the walking path,
but for now
the road is.
naked
and nude,
a world
scraped clean
but tethered
to balloons,
floating high
against
the blue.