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Inherited Soil by Olya K-Mehri

  • Jul 25
  • 1 min read


Inherited Soil


I used to walk that field after rain,

the air dim and streaked with afterlight.

Roots pushed up like ribs in the dirt,

unbraiding the dark that held them

as stones shifted in their sleep.


Each season something gave out—

the green thinned, copper bled through,

and one morning the ground blushed

with the last of its colour.


I pressed my hand there,

felt loss flicker—mineral, unsaid, alive.

The soil moved through me,

quiet as a pulse learning to fade.

 

 


Olya K-Mehri is a Forward Prize-nominated, London-born poet of Iranian heritage whose work explores nature, aesthetics, and our shifting connection to place. She is a researcher in environmental ethics and philosophy, and the founder of the Rooted Art Collective. 

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