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!