If I could trap a moment
Which moment would it be
And how I would I preserve it
For all the world to see
If it were trapped in amber
I’d catch it like a fly
That had to taste the sticky sweet
Not knowing it would die
Preserving for the future
That moment of its greed
Still thinking it could fly away
If ever it were free’d.
Or maybe in a photograph
that traps the very light
but static as the amber’d bug
and as proscribed from flight
a moment trapped mid-movement
or with a frozen smile
that never dims yet hides away
in some forgotten file
Or could I fossilize it,
Set it in hard stone
Every moment that I want
Preserved like ancient bone
Lasting through all ages
Far beyond my time
Would some unknown future me
Still see it, then, as mine?
Inspired by the dverse word prompt of “set” but it sort of developed a mind of its own and wanted to channel Emily Dickenson instead of being a quadrille. Adding the dverse “immitation” prompt
Xanku 
You did a good job “channeling” Emily Dickenson. This poem has a similar vibe to hers.
there is also something of Goethe’s Faust here though your poem is full of charm – each verse delicately crafted. This one especially
“Or maybe in a photograph
that traps the very light
but static as the amber’d bug
and as proscribed from flight”
The question of course is how much we should revel in a memory, and how much wallow in it.
Loved the premise of this one…..trying to capture moments that we want for all time. Excellent rhyming that kept a good pace in the reading.
I know I’ve pondered sometimes….not wanting time to stand still on one moment forever so that time is frozen and doesn’t move forward. But just some way that we could keep a moment live so that we could not just view it again, as we can with videos, but get in to the moment itself so we can live and react in it again. hmmmm I think that’s called a time machine?
I especially liked the stanza on fossils.
Well done!
Or the way objects become imbued with memories, and then when other people just see them as objects, it feels like an affront.
Nice description: “Preserving for the future
That moment of its greed” And I liked the question at the end about the continuity of the future with the past.
Or our need to preserve these moments as “mine”
I love the concept, and the wonderful lyrical rhyming as the story unfolds. I LOVE a rhyming poem!
I’m not able to pull off rhyming all that often. A /lot/ of my rhymes end up in the trash.
I like the way you try to answer a question that is almost impossible to answer.. maybe a preserved moment will be just like all preserves… merely a faint shadow of the original… like the shadows of Plato’s cave resembling the real without being the actual moment.
Very insightful- I’ve actually spent several days now struggling with this very concept, about perception. I finally have an anchoring line and hoping it will come through today!
An interesting question to ponder. Nicely done. I especially like the last stanza.
Even in trying to save, we change what is and was. I especially like the fossil stanza. (K)
Thank you! I struggle with rhyme, very pleased with how this came out.
I like the last stanza hard to switch gears and still maintain the tone and rhythm of the rest so it all remains of one piece- very nice job with the rhyme
There are very few moments in my life that I’d love to preserve eternally, but they’re worth it. I loved the nostalgic tone of this poem.
Lasting through all ages
Far beyond my time
Would some unknown future me
Still see it, then, as mine?
Very nicely written. I love the ending!
A thoughtful and evocative write!
But Xan, you already have. As I read this I think it is exactly what a God(dess) does. They will always be yours, but their sting/joy/guilt/etc. may wear off over time — which is as it should be. If it didn’t you’d never want to leave them to go on to make new ones… You did a wonderful job on this poem. I felt it strongly but yet it has a lightness to it that brings the message home without overwhelming.
The “lightness” of it, as you say, is what I think gives best homage to its muse, Emily Dickenson–to take a difficult, even fraught, emotion and give that distance and gentleness that makes it bearable. Memory, if you will, kindly stopping for me.
I will remember this about her. I like the idea of memory kindly stopping.
Well, death kindly stopped for her. But I wasn’t going to go quite that far (this was my mother’s favorite poem): https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47652/because-i-could-not-stop-for-death-479
Such a gentle, poignant, and hopeful poem all rolled into one. Your mom had/has good taste.