A wintry wet day at Seattle's Volunteer Park Conservatory, as told in two parts.
Part One: The Bromeliads, Tillandsia, and Ferns

Rain patters on the roof and trickles down the windows
Wind blows the trees in gusts.

But inside all is serene and quiet,
Steamy and green.

Save the quiet drip, drip of tiny hidden waterfalls
And the unmistakable almost-silent sound of things growing

Like characters in a fairy tale
Familiar houseplants grow to mythical proportions

They blossom in fantastical, extravagant proportion
In colors too rich to be real

But they are real
And you can walk among them

To your heart's content
For four dollars on any given afternoon.
* * * * *
Part Two: Cacti

Prickly
Parched

Tucked among the rocks

Foreigners from the desert.
You've traveled far to come here.

Sturdy.
Survivors.

Reaching for the sky.
The world out there isn't meant for you.

Stay inside where it's warm and dry

Charm us with your cacti ways.
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