Once gilded, magnificent pavillion...

...anchored to the shore, feet locked
in bed rock, you drew thousands
to your floors, the hurdy gurdy, the garish stalls.
Now, fire stripped, empty in the shallows.
Is it falling night that compells shadows
of hawkers and pleasure-seeking crowds
to move through your half-million furnished hours?

And a back blip the day before:

Rougher seas near by.