Poem for a Good Friday

Did the hammer fall
from the hands of the man
who drove the bolts home
in the hands of the One
who cried when He died
and into the hands
of the Father had flown?

It ought to be known.
Did the steel-hard hands
of the nail-driving man
release their hard hold,
letting the hammer go?

And did the hammer-man cry
when the Man who had died
in the sixth-hour dark,
having finished His work,
cried, "Father forgive,
though I die let them live"?

Did the hammer fall?
And did the man cry?