Suffolk

My heart has a bound tether,
not to gorse but heather,  
the smallest of kinkless hills,    
the rolls and rolls of ceaseless fields,  
the small birds hanging seldom low,  
dog and heel  
and ancient architecture,    
I need not veil my quiet soul  
when I am open wide.  
It's Walberswick, Walderingfield,  
the vole, the wren,  
train track, trees.  
It all unfurls,  
these gentle comforts  
that always seem  
to guide me home.