THE LAST PEARL MAN

And still, every time I go to the city beach I see him as if he never leaves  his place, just  remaining of a human covering his body  with his yellow wrapper and his old T-shirt   noting a staples song I hear it melodious brassy and solicitous tempt you to hear it and it annoys you if the sound of the caring machines which brought from out the city exceeded on it lifting half ton rocks above each other hiding the sea crouching on it’s soft golden sands and what stayed of the shells splinters.

One evening, I offered him my desire in helping him as he wanted.   He pricked  me with his sharp looks before leaving me walking towards his ship. I followed him with my sight while he  was entering to it’s trunk. I heard  after a song rattle through   each of his knocking on the ship wall.

After finishing city beach decorating, a bigger van  came and   started   carrying the wooden ships, which existed on the coast long and took it to a far place to the west.

On a witty night, I saw him for the first time walking towards the sea while his ship was capered by iron having in the air and the crowbar on a truck. I was  pleased with him in spite of his walking to the sea in spite of the crowbar sounds and the roaring of the iron chins and the mooning of the whistling air which came out of the ship trunk and the sea roaring sea birds I still heard   his song because it reached  me this time dying hardly to hear. I turned towards the west where the trucks one after  another got  smaller and  disappeared in the red sun disk.  A plane passed over my head emoting black smoke moving    like a snake   towards the city airport and penetrated into the   clouds. It disappeared for minutes before appearing again.  For years the sky was pregnant with clouds but no rains  fell. We prayed for rains   but still no rains.

I looked again at him I couldn't  see   much of him except his head touched by the waves and swallowed by the sea.

                      Doha – April 1999