Quarters

There was a time, not long ago, I’m sure this won’t seem strange, When I would never leave my house Without a pile of change. My wallet would be fit to burst Or pockets would be jangling With all the quarters that from every source I had been wrangling. The parking meters ate them up. The bus was just as greedy; And every pay phone (once a dime) For quarters seemed quite needy. The laundry room had its machines Equipped so they would take As many quarters as they could Before we’d bellyache. I needed quarters in the car For paying all the tolls; And in arcades, a two-bit coin Bestowed you the controls. But now technology’s advanced With cards of many types. Some radar reads your E-Z Pass; You board the bus with swipes. I’ve plastic for the wash and dry, The subway and to park. A quarter proffered would be met With shrug as question mark. I miss my quarter harvest Though I really must confess I’m better off today because My wallet weighs much less!