Only the highest tides reach this small island’s
sandstone rocks. A collar of flaxen sand
surrounds it. A quarter of a mile north
is Middle Eye. A hundred yards further
is Hilbre, habitation of hermits,
custom’s officers, weather stations.
These three are rugged, stony outcrops
in the mouth of the estuary.
Leaving West Kirby’s suburban promenade,
we had walked, at low water, to Little Eye
across the Dee’s hard, striated sands.
Westward is Wales, and the redundant lighthouse
at Point of Ayr,