The colours in your fog while you run through it

So taking off from my last poem, I’ve decided to do a series of poems inspired by Pink Floyd album covers. The poems may resonate with the concept of the album itself (I’ll try) or may not.

Here’s a poem inspired by the cover of arguably the band’s best album.

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The colours in your fog while you run through it

While the light passes through your life
it bends itself,
splits you inside.
And as you grow older
the colour fades in your eyes.
And when you stand
on the threshold of the great beyond,
you see the shades in the rainbow,
you wonder if there could be more of them
and then you realise
your retina has a limited palette.
Or maybe the colours blurred past
your peripheral vision
while you ran on the mouse wheel.
Maybe you skipped a few shades,
maybe you could try pushing the colours back into the funnel
and watch them travel back in time,
see shades realign,
and if you break your pace,
not run,
just walk instead,
maybe your rainbow would have more colours.

Or maybe not,
maybe we are all colour-blind.

And then as you’d hear the motor of time whirring,
the sounds charging down the expressway in your inner ear
and thundering into your brain,
you’d realize the mouse wheel never stops,
so you’d pick the pace,
and run through the fog
of your exhaling breath.