George Sipos hears the song of frogs at two in the morning and wonders if it’s passion that drives them or the loneliness of spring. In another poem, the wet leaves of fall are portrayed in language that cuts two ways: “I work the rake, &#47 you the wheelbarrow. When we get tired we will change.”

Capturing ephemeral moments of the ordinary, George Sipos illuminates the immanence of possibility. With that light comes an awareness of the miraculous intimacy of experience — the transition of glass from solid to liquid, the gaseous envelope of air, the scent of smoking sand.

“Sipos doesn’t have much truck with romanticization, and is quite content to poke fun at our pretensions to the sublime … Although there are points in the book at which the interiority of perspective does begin to feel insular, more often Sipos redeems these quiet meditations by looking out and beyond the self. Most readers will find themselves more than satisfied with the adroit intellect and sensual richness of these poems, which generate ‘a heat which draws the mind out beyond the window’ of perception.”
– Globe and Mail

“The essence of Sipos’s work is its honouring of evanescence, its surprising alloy of grief and gratitude, its light hand, its astute eye.”
“We need more writers turning mind and ear to the world’s ‘dark solidity.’ George Sipos attends ‘the calendar of the fields’ through squall and leaf-fall and eclipse, offering in The Glassblowers a glittering assemblage, fragments of music and memory.”