Last Friday, I was thinking of Whitney Houston,and, because of you, I was thinking too of America,what I might sing of it. In elementary school,I pledged allegiance, the opening wordsstill the fastest way for me to find my right hand,for my right hand to find my heart. Over thirty years agoin my home town, when I was a childin elementary school, faithful in my recitationto the flag, the L.A.P.D. For as long as I livedin Arkansas, my great-aunt, now eighty-eight,who was born and will die just off Highway 79—my great-aunt, who has a mind, mind you,worked the polls. I was rememberingAmerica, thinking of you, on my rumble home,the anthem I used to sing along to, my handfinding my heart because I was youngand yielded to most things.