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Hahn's new collection wrestles with the elemental and enduring challenges of the human condition: What can we use from our spiritual heritage? How should we find relief? How, after it all, do we live? The poems are presented as a letter to the world from a woman preparing to leave it. In four sections - ""The Bells,"" ""The Crosses,"" ""Widdershins,"" and ""Afterwor(l)d"" - she contrasts the hope against the dark that is embodied by an amulet or cross with the abased resignation of torture, failed prayers, and witchcraft. Though Hahn's vision is a dark one, its emotional depth speaks to a human power that, though damaged, can still engage.From ""The Crosses (V)"" - Cross my fingers, cross my heart, arms extended, legs together, not apart, I make of myself a cross. In my pockets bright blue beads, small clay gods, scarabs, four-leaf clovers, bejewelled mezuzahs. In my hat cockleshells to exorcize the demons, to keep hidden the seventh chakra, the tonsure, the bald compulsion. Cross my fingers, cross my heart, arms extended, legs together, not apart. In my ears little bells of confusion to frighten away eyes of the evil. On my breast a foul sachet to repel the lick of the Devil. Cross my fingers, cross my heart. In my window a glass witch ball to guard against the shatter from intruders. Cross my fingers.