Sense Sonnet - Tickler

 Inflation

An old lady sold pretzels on

The corner for a quarter each.

So each workday I'd come upon

Her, and in my pocket I'd reach

For a quarter and drop it in

Her cup, but no pretzel I'd take.

Years passed, one day I did begin

To drop in a quarter to make

My small gift, but the lady shook

Her  head in a negative way,

Giving me a very sad look,

Held up her cup, and then did say,

"Inflation never seems to cease,"

Pretzels now a dollar apiece."