A Complete Lack of Perspective

Speckled lizard doing push-ups
On a tumbled basalt boulder
(Eroding in the wayside grass
For however many million
Lives of lizards and spears of grass),

An old-fashioned question to ask
Might be, What do you think of things?
What is your beastly perspective?
But these questions of simpletons—
Metaphysicians ruined them

With qualia and hard problems,
And poets now would rather know
Why anyone would want a poem
Sunning itself in a green field
While genuine hawks are circling.