Taking My Pen for a Walk

Tonight I took the leash off my pen.
At first it was frightened,
looked up at me with confused eyes, tongue panting.
Then I said, ‘Go on, run away,’
and pushed its head.
Still it wasn’t sure what I wanted;
it whimpered with its tail between its legs.
So I yelled, ‘You’re free, why don’t you run –
you stupid pen, you should be glad.
Now get out of my sight.’
It took a few steps.
I stamped my foot and threw a stone.
Suddenly, it realised what I was saying
and began to run furiously away from me.