The Appearance of a Hearth

It’s like you’ve gone camping,
And you’ve found a good site,
And you’ve pitched your pup-tent,
And you’ve started your hearth,
And just now you notice
There’s nothing good to burn.

So you wander about
In looping, useless lines,
Picking up punky bark,
Pine needles, spindly twigs,
Nothing more substantive
Than a three-minute flame.

You can keep feeding this,
Knowing it wastes your time,
Won’t cook or provide warmth,
Nothing but make it look
Like, since you’re camping, fire
Is required, when it’s not.