Psychic Pastiches, an excerpt from "Sludge White and the Seven Curmudgeons"

this excerpt from my novella-poem "Sludge White and the Seven Curmudgeons"
references two of the other posted excerpts from the 'night of dreams'.
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the bay window was open in Sludge White's room

and billowing breezes were scurrying in

puffing the curtains and ruffling the feathers

of the sill-hugging birds that nestled therein.

in an image that was slowly receding

she saw herself waving and saying goodbye.

and someone was hushed by the thrushes and doves,

crushed with the embers beneath the garnet sky.

a rapid succession of snapshots followed.

in each her likeness was the constant focus;

leaping from ledges and spitting at soldiers,

relentlessly viewed from an unseen locus.

she couldn't recall such an obsession

in the psychic pastiches she'd hatched up before

and was baffled by the sheer consistency,

the bane of ploughed minds, and refuge of a bore.

but glimpsing the dazzling, quicksilver emotions

spraying like sparks from a sharpening knife

she grasped they had to be Sylvana's

who'd opened this window when she entered her life.

in the tart taunts tossed at thuggish sentries

she discerned the witty bite of Mock's waggish bent

and mused that she must be paying calls on dreams

as the deer by her side nodded their assent.
*******
(thus endeth the excerpt - Evan Hawthorn, 13th of May, 2015)