John Hodgen

My Father’s Hammer

After he died, my mother gave me his toolbox, / saying he would have wanted me to have it, / the hammer kept inside as if in a little grave.

After The Reading, Driving Back To Massachusetts With Jim Beschta, I Think Of The Men Who Hold The World In Their Hands

Each Moment Is Speaking To You Of The Other

My Mother Swimming

In A Dream It All Has To Be True Like The Moon

This Day

Old Men In Restrooms

This Life, This Word Unsaid