A poet, like all good artists, tells the truth but tells it slant, as Emily Dickinson famously said it.6 With its densely woven speech, poetry is suggestive rather than scientific.7 It works precisely by being ambiguous and allusive. And while poets are “always telling us that grass is green, or thunder loud, or lips red,” as C. S. Lewis writes in his essay “The Language of Religion,” they are also always telling us that green is more than merely green, thunder more than only loud, lips exceedingly