To Envy a Snowflake

Sean William Dever


I watch the snowflakes come to life.

They dance their descent,
I envy every falling one.

Destined to die by heat, warmth –
yet free of disease.

They fall to the ground
in perfect order,
determined before their fall.

Cling together –

aware that innate unison
is self-destructive in itself.

I pull myself from the window
overlooking the freshly-dusted city street,
back to the warm confines of bed.

Freshly cleaned linens scratch
my chest and upper thighs,
pale white sheets meet my neck.

Leaning forward,
I thought I heard the ringing of my phone,
but when I looked,
no one had called.

Continuing to lay in bed
looking, absent-mindedly at the ceiling
recalling a time in which
there was someone to call.

Self-loathing –
not a tune I wished to play
least, so consciously.
I think again of the snowflakes –
absent of choice,
free of sickness.



Sean William Dever is a Boston-based poet, educator, and activist currently in his last year of his MFA in Creative Writing with a focus in Poetry at Emerson College. He teaches writing at Emerson and Boston Architectural College. In addition, he also works as a Professional ESL Tutor at Northeastern University. He is the author of the chapbook, I’ve Been Cancelling Appointments with My Psychiatrist for Two Years Now, forthcoming May 2019, published by Swimming with Elephants Publications.