Joy McCall takes a keen interest in everything from her children to
the local crooks and drunks, artisans, madwomen, and ghosts. The
supernatural is as real to her as the material world and the dead
populate her poems along with the living. The fleshless rabbi
walking his haunted corridor reminds her that Norwich was the
origin of the Blood Libel against the Jews, while not far away the
witches still dance among the standing stones. Old churches, old
pubs, and old graves tell stories to those that listen amid the
scattered needles and barroom fights of the present day.
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