The Return of Old Joe.

“Old Joe” is a rendering of a buffalo skull that has been the logo for Westerners International since the 1940s. A three-dimensional version of the skull graces the handsome award plaques handed out every year by the organization.

Among those awards is the Fred Olds Poetry Award. I am pleased to say that yours truly is the recipient of the 2025 version of that award for rodeo poems that appear in my collection Buckoffs and Broken Barriers. Old Joe will find a place on my wall next to earlier versions of the award from 2011 for Things a Cowboy Sees and Other Poems, and from 2014 for Goodnight Goes Riding and Other Poems.

Westerners International is an organization of historians and history buffs that “celebrates fun, scholarship, and heritage in the American West.” At present, there are more than 3,000 members organized into 60 “corrals” or “posses” in the United States, as well as 20 corrals abroad, including England, Germany, Austria, Denmark, Belgium, the Czech Republic, Japan, Sweden, and Finland.

This has been a noteworthy year for my attempts at writing, with Spur Award Finalists for poetry and short fiction from Western Writers of America, the Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Award for Best Western Novel for Where the Long Trail Ends, and my inclusion in the OPEN: Journal of Arts & Letters “Masters Series” for poetry with the release of the chapbook, Saddle Work: The Art & Craft of Cowboy Poetry.

And so it goes

SURPRISE!

For many years, Jeff Streeby and I have maintained a convivial, if distant, relationship and we correspond from time to time. Among other things, he is author of a remarkable collection of prose and poetry, Sunday Creek, a look at an Old West town from an engaging variety of viewpoints. He also taught English language and literature at high schools and universities, and has been honored with several prestigious awards and other recognition. Jeff is also Senior Associate Editor for OJAL Arts Incorporated, and manages its prominent publication, OPEN: Journal of Arts & Letters, or O:JA&L for short.

The high-toned Journal features a wide range of poetry and prose, as well as the poets and writers who create it. They also publish a “Masters Series” of chapbooks featuring  a selected author, their work, and other material. Jeff offered me the shocking opportunity to be featured in the Masters Series. The result is a 52-page chapbook under the Journal’s Dally Post Press imprint, Saddle Work: The Art & Practice of Cowboy Poetry. The book features a handful of my poems, including some heretofore unseen, an essay on cowboy poetry, and an interview in which I attempt to provide rational answers to Jeff’s probing questions. I can’t remember the last time I had to think so hard.

The O:JA&L website is featuring one of the new poems, “Give That Cowboy a Hand,” (with more to come) as well as the entirety of Saddle Work: The Art & Practice of Cowboy Poetry. Click on the links and take a look. Being included in the Masters Series is an honor—and a big surprise.

Good news.

Western Writers of America just announced the results of the 2026 Spur Awards for literary works published in 2025.

“Leftovers,” from the collection Buckoffs and Broken Barriers: Rodeo Poems, was named a Spur Award Finalist for Best Western Poem. It is a lighthearted verse bemoaning the state of an old, broke-down rodeo cowboy long, long past his questionable prime, reminiscing about the past. It is not altogether autobiographical.

“Rawhide Robinson Faces Fear” was honored as a Spur Award Finalist for Best Western Short Fiction. The story appears in the collection Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions, which features award-winning stories from the past (and a few more) by yours truly and fellow author Michael Norman. Now, Rawhide Robinson has truly earned his place in the book. (Rawhide Robinson is, by the way, winner of a Spur Award and twice a Spur Award Finalist as the subject of previous novels.)

Since 1953, Western Writers of America Spur Awards have honored writers “for distinguished writing about the American West. . . . Spur Awards have been one of the most prestigious awards in American literature.” In addition to the Spur winner, two Finalists are named in each category. I have been fortunate to have won four Spur Awards—two for short fiction, one for poetry, and one for a novel.

These two new Finalists bring the total to eight for that recognition, joining other Finalists for short fiction and poetry, as well as novels and a song (with stellar cowboy singer/songwriter Brenn Hill).

Sometimes you get lucky. I just got a little bit lucky again. Twice.

 

Hit the Dusty Trail.

The Dusty Trails and Tall Tales podcast goes live Thursday, December 18, at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time. Host, as always, will be the podcast creator, Matthew Pizzolato. Yours truly will be guest writer.

Among other things, the discussion will revolve around my latest novel, Where the Long Trail Ends, and Buckoffs and Broken Barriers, my recently released collection of rodeo poetry. And since Matthew is an accomplished author of Western fiction, we’ll likely talk about how we go about spinning a tale of the Old West, whether based on something from history or out of thin air.

Matthew has conducted hundreds of interviews on Dusty Trails and Tall Tales and says this about the podcast: “Whether you're a die-hard Western fan or a budding writer, you'll gain fascinating insights into the craft of creating unforgettable characters, thrilling showdowns, and the rugged landscapes of the frontier. Saddle up and join us as we explore the art of Western storytelling, one interview at a time.”

Grab a mug of your favorite hot beverage and join us. Follow the link to Matthew’s website, or find Dusty Trails and Tall Tales on Spotify or YouTube. If you can’t join us live, we’ll be archived online forever.

See you (or be seen by you) Thursday, December 18, at 5:00 p.m. Mountain Time.

Double Header.

Two new books to tell about.

A collection of rodeo poems, Buckoffs and Broken Barriers, written over the years is now available online in paperback and eBook. The poems range from humorous to wistful and everywhere in between, and all are the result of years spent riding, working, or watching rodeo. Some are based on actual events. Others ought to be, even if they’re not.

Nine-time World Champion Rodeo Cowboy Ty Murray read the book, and had this to say:

“Rod Miller is a very talented wordsmith who brings out the humor, danger, mystique and drama of cow people and their sport. After reading many of his poems that depict his experiences as a rodeo cowboy, it’s a damn good thing he’s a hand with a pen.”

Coming mid-August is a collection of short stories, Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions, co-authored with friend and fellow writer Michael Norman. Many of the stories are award winners or finalists for those honors, or recipients of other noteworthy recognition. There are Spur Awards from Western Writers of America, Medallions from the Will Rogers Medallion Awards, Peacemakers from Western Fictioneers, and other honors some of our stories have been fortunate enough to receive. We collected those award winners and finalists, wrote some new stories, and put them together in this two-author collection.

Michael is author of several modern-day Western mystery novels, and also writes short stories. Most are historical tales about the Apache wars in the Southwest. My stories run the gamut in setting, subject,  and style. The book is a Thorndike Press large-print edition, available from online booksellers as well as on the shelves at many libraries.

Whether your taste runs to poetry or short fiction or both, you’ll find Buckoffs and Broken Barriers and  Shiny Spurs and Gold Medallions enjoyable. You’ll get a taste of arena dirt, feel the heat of the southwestern deserts, and hear the creak of saddle leather. You’ll find a touch of anxiety and anticipation, some fear and uncertainty—and even the occasional laugh.

 

Word came down last week that Wallace McRae is dead.

He was among the handful of cowboy poets behind the rebirth of our art and craft in the mid-1980s, and his passing is a loss from which we will never recover.

The word “curmudgeon” was as firmly affixed to McRae as his bushy mustache, and it was a description I believe he carried with pride. To many, he came across as gruff. But underlying that gruffness were two simple facts: he had a low tolerance for bullshit, and he did not suffer fools gladly.

McRae was a poet. More than a mere rhymer, jokester, versifier, or entertainer, he wrangled words to create well-crafted poetry that spoke of the West in layers that plumbed the depths, asking questions and demanding thought. You will not find among his work the cheap emotion, the manufactured pride, the manipulative humor so often found in cowboy poetry.

I did not know McRae well. We were well enough acquainted to speak, but it’s not like we were drinking buddies. Back in 2016, he agreed to be interviewed for a magazine article I was working on, and we had a good, long talk at the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada. I got what I needed for the story, and I got a lot more than I expected.

We talked about his early exposure to poetry, including his first public recitation at age four at a community Christmas celebration. And his exposure at an early age to one of the greatest cowboy poets of all time: “We got a livestock publication, my dad did, I don’t know what the title of it was, but it had a monthly Bruce Kiskaddon illustrated poem in it. . . . I knew Kiskaddon before I could read.”

I asked his opinion on what Kiskaddon and other early masters—Badger Clark, S. Omar Barker, and others—might think of today’s cowboy poetry. “My guess is, I think they would for the most part feel that we’re trying hard. But maybe not measuring up. Because so few people are trained now in writing. They haven’t read the classics. We haven’t studied the art enough. . . . I don’t think there’s enough of us that study poetry.”

McRae’s honors are too many to mention. But his legacy is one we should treasure—and we could all benefit from reading and rereading and studying his poetry. He was one of the best of us. And now he is gone.

Interview in Route 7 Review.

Utah Tech University in St. George publishes Route 7 Review, a digital literary arts journal. The name comes from a short highway through red rock and sand deep in southwestern Utah. A while back, while in the neighborhood for a “Poet on the Patio” reading at the city’s fine bookstore, the Book Bungalow, Utah Tech professor Stephen Armstrong and I talked about cowboy poetry.

Dr. Armstrong managed to wrangle my wandering words into some semblance of sense and the interview is included in the latest is issue of Route 7 Review, under a title honoring my hometown: The Man from Goshen. The links will take you there.

Poet on the Patio.

During rodeo weekend in St. George, Utah, The Book Bungalow will host yours truly as “Poet on the Patio” Saturday, September 14 at 10:00 a.m. Rodeo has been the inspiration for a good many of my poems, ranging from humor to thoughtful to ponderings on how the sport challenges home and married life.

My long-ago rodeo travels did not take me to St. George for the PRCA rodeo—an event that’s still going strong and will be held that weekend. But I did compete in the Dixie College rodeo there a few times as a member of Utah State University Intercollegiate Rodeo Team, and in 1973 won the bareback riding there. I still wear the trophy buckle on occasion, although my belt back then wasn’t as long as it is nowadays. 

If you are anywhere near the bottom corner of Utah that weekend, please drop by the patio out back of The Book Bungalow, located at 94 West Tabernacle Street in St. George, Saturday, September 14 at 10:00 a.m. Bring your friends. Bring your neighbors. Bring a smile (if you don’t bring one, come anyway—we’ll try to send you home with one).

My biggest audience, ever.

 

A few weeks ago, I had lunch with my old friend Brian Crane who, for years, has lived on the opposite side of the Great Basin, some 500 miles away. So, we don’t see each other as often as we like. Many, many years ago we worked together in a small ad agency in Idaho Falls, were in business together for a time, and later worked together again at an ad agency in Reno.

I left there for Utah and he stayed. Brian stayed in advertising for a time, working as an art director and designer. But he worked his way out of the business by drawing funny pictures and writing funny words. And he’s kept at it for more than thirty years, earning a living and much acclaim as one of America’s top comic strip artists—the man behind “Pickles.”

I have written a lot of poems over the years, and been published in a lot of periodicals, anthologies, collections, and online. But my most widely read poems are probably—almost certainly—those ghost-written for, or in collaboration with, one of the stars of Brian’s comic strip, Earl Pickles.

Now and then, Earl gets a hankering to be a cowboy poet. When he first got the urge, I lent a hand. Now the old geezer writes his own poems. But, like the little verse above, my words have on occasion basked in Earl’s limelight in hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of newspapers across the country.

If that’s as close to fame as I ever get as a cowboy poet, I’ll take it.

Poetry Month bonus.

 
    April is National Poetry Month here in the good ol’ USA. Here we are at the short end of it. We’ve had thirty days of poetry readings, poetry recitals, poetry postings, and poetry podcasts.
    By now, you may have had your fill of poetry—if such a thing is even possible.
    But hold on. You’re not free of it yet.
    There’s a popular podcast called “Cowboy Up” that originates from the White Stallion Ranch in New Mexico, hosted—usually—by Alan Day and Russell True, and produced by Stan Hustad.
    To close out National Poetry Month, “Cowboy Up” is offering a bonus program. Log on and you can hear Stan interview me and read a few of my poems as we talk about poetry and cowboys.
    You’re invited, welcome, and encouraged to listen in. Click here and you’ll be there: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-cowboy-up-podcast/id1521902050

 

Sad passing.

Twenty years ago and then some, CowboyPoetry.com showed up online. Established under a veil of mystery, the site started out sort of campy. But the brains behind it soon learned that cowboy poetry, even the funny kind, is a serious art.

The brains behind it turned out to belong to the remarkable Margo Metegrano, who rode herd on the site, driving it to grow and develop into an institution. It became the world’s largest archive of cowboy poetry, both contemporary and classic. It promoted and reported on cowboy poetry events across the country. It featured relevant essays and commentary. And it spun off a blog and a Facebook page.

It established Cowboy Poetry Week, and saw it ratified in the US Congress and by the governors of several states. It formed the Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry, which, among other things, produced a series of annual CDs featuring thematic collections of poems recited by folks from across the country, and distributed them to libraries everywhere.

It was all a labor of love for Margo, who worked tirelessly to promote an art she had grown to love, becoming, perhaps, the most important and influential person in the cowboy poetry community—all the while content to stay in the shadows, all but invisible, save to the poets who came to know, love, appreciate, and respect her.

Tireless finally turned to just plain tired, and Margo recently decided to hang it up. No one can, should, or does blame her. She deserves the rest. She earned it.

But that doesn’t mean the cowboy poetry community isn’t mourning the passing. And its unlikely we will soon recover, for there will never, ever again, be anything quite like CowboyPoetry.com.

Celebrating Cowboy Poetry Week.

      April 19 through 25 is Cowboy Poetry Week—a time to celebrate the poems and poets who honor cowboy life through poetry. Cowboy poetry is a long-standing tradition, stretching from the nineteenth century to our day, and destined to last as long as there are, or memories of, cattle and the horseback men and women who tend them.

      The poem below is posted in observance of the seven-day jubilee. 

      In spring and fall in the country where I grew up, v-shaped strings of Canada geese honked their way overhead as they migrated in spring and fall. The regularity of their flights reminded me of the cycle of cowboy work, specifically spring branding, and the gathering and shipping of beef cattle to market in the fall. And, the anticipation that accompanies the rhythms and rounds of nature and life and work.

      The Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry has been, since the year 2000, and will continue to be, a driving force in preserving and promoting the poetry of cowboys. Your support will be welcome. Enjoy browsing the archives at CowboyPoetry.com, as well as regular postings on the Cowboy Poetry blog and on Facebook.

MIGRATIONS

I hear them in the evening winging northward—

     Their eager, maybe longing, kind of sound.

It reminds me that we’ll soon be done with calving;

     That branding time ain’t far from coming ’round.

And I think how fall works really ain’t that distant;

     Shipping calves under sundown pewter skies

Wherein arrowpointed flocks are winging southward,

     Trailing echoes of urgent, mournful cries.

The whistle has sounded.

Bob Schild’s ride is over. He left us January 20. And, no matter what criteria you use for judging, Bob made the whistle on a winning ride.

The years found Bob in a variety of arenas. He was a rodeo cowboy of the first order, successful in all the rough stock events with numerous championships to his credit. He was a businessman, establishing and operating B-Bar-B Leather for decades, building and selling saddles, rodeo gear, and providing all manner of horse equipment; a business passed down to his sons. He was a poet, long before cowboy poetry became the thing to do.

When I first thought to pen poetry, I looked to Bob’s work for inspiration and an education. Beyond mere rhyming stories, Bob’s verse showed literary technique, deep thinking, and attention to craft. I wanted to meet him.

I tracked Bob down at the National Circuit Finals Rodeo one year, where I found him sweeping up under the grandstands. That’s the way Bob was—always willing to lend a hand and do any job that needed doing. He was happy to make my acquaintance and willing to talk poetry and rodeo anytime, any place.

We became friends, and for years engaged in a one-sided admiration society. I had little to contribute to the relationship. Bob gave it his all. I wish time and distance hadn’t gotten in the way of my spending more time with him.

A few magazine articles focusing on Bob found their way into print, and it was difficult for me as a writer to maintain any semblance of objectivity when writing about him. 

I will never forget Bob Schild. Even though the whistle has sounded, his winning score is permanently inked in the record books.

A new dispatch.

The summer issue of Saddlebag Dispatches is online and off the presses. Included in its 162 colorful pages is my regular column, “Best of the West.”

Featured in the column are cowboy poet Andy Nelson and songster Brenn Hill, whose on-stage exchange of poetry and song are unrivaled in western entertainment. Andy and Brenn are both outstanding writers, which, to me, is what matters most.

But that isn’t where their talents end. Andy is a master of ceremonies, reciter, humorist, and commentator without equal. Brenn is a lyricist, composer, picker, and singer of the finest kind. Together, they blend poems and songs on similar subjects seamlessly, alternating stanza and verse to tell a bigger story than either song or poem tells on its own.

Link up with Saddlebag Dispatches, and enjoy all it has to offer in the way of magazine features, short stories, poems, photos, and more.

And don’t miss the “Best of the West.”

Celebrating art.

From June 20 through 23, hundreds of artists of all kinds invade downtown Salt Lake City’s Library Square for the Utah Arts Festival. And tens of thousands of lovers of literature, music, visual arts, dance, and other artistic endeavors join the fun.

This year, cowboy poets and Western writers are on the program, including yours truly. I am honored to have been asked to present a workshop on Western writing and take the stage to read from my work.

Should you live in or find yourself in the Intermountain West while the celebration is in progress, join us. There’s something for everyone on the program—especially something you never expected.

CPU Pioneer Heritage Award.

A little over a week ago, at the Cowboy Poets of Utah annual Symposium, the group honored me with the Pioneer Heritage Award “For living the life, dreaming the dream, and telling the stories of Utah’s Cowboy Heritage.”

I have been involved with CPU since the inaugural meeting back in 2002, and I suppose the fact that there aren’t many other originals still on the grazing side of the grass may have something to do with my selection.

The organization focuses on public performance of poetry, which, as many of you may know, has never been of much interest to me except as an enthusiastic audience member. But I am a writer, and writing poems about cowboys and the West is some of what I do, so we have always shared a common interest.

In any case, I am both surprised at and flattered with the recognition. Thank you, CPU.

Back in the Saddle(bag).

The latest issue of Saddlebag Dispatches is now available. Dedicated to rodeo, this issue of the magazine includes three contributions from me.

First is a cover story, “The Man Who Invented Rodeo.” It’s all about Earl Bascom, whose inventions and improvements and developments back when make modern rodeo what it is today. Bascom is enshrined in numerous rodeo-related halls of fame recognizing his achievements. He was also an accomplished artist.

My regular “Best of the West” column features Larry Mahan, record-setting rough-stock rider and hero of my rodeo youth. Also included is a poem about the struggles of rodeo wives left at home while their cowboys struggle on the circuit. It’s titled “Nowhere Rodeo.”

Go online and take a look at Saddlebag Dispatches, or order a printed copy of the big magazine. If you’re a rodeo fan, you’ll be a fan of this issue.

Gads, gut hooks, and grapplin’ irons.

Cowboys call them by all kinds of names—gads, gut hooks, and grapplin’ irons among them. Then there’s can openers, rib wrenches, and buzzsaws. And more.

But the official name—if there is such a thing in Western lingo—is spurs.

Spurs are a common cowboy tool, in everyday use wherever horses are saddled. But Western Writers of America borrowed the name and attached it to something uncommon and not everyday. As the organization puts it, “Western Writers of America annually honors writers for distinguished writing about the American West with the Spur Awards.”

Winners of the 2018 Spur Awards were announced recently, and I am honored to know several recipients and their work. And I am especially honored to once again be counted among them.

“Lost and Found” is a short story published last year in Saddlebag Dispatches that tells of a modern-day cowboy who loses a piece of his thumb in his dallies while gathering strays on a remote range, and finds the body of a dead boy dumped in a dry wash.

The judges somehow found it worthy and named it the Spur Award winner for Best Western Short Fiction.

Also published in Saddlebag Dispatches, my poem “The Knowing” was named a Finalist for the Spur Award for Best Western Poem. My friend and fine poet Marleen Bussma won the Spur for her poem, “She Saddles Her Own Horse.”

All thanks to the late Dusty Richards and to Casey Cowan who elected to publish the story and the poem in their magazine. And appreciation to the Spur Award judges who bestowed these honors.

I am more than happy to pound a couple more nails in the wall.

Wisdom from Down Under.

Unless you’re from Australia, you might not recognize the picture above as a $10 bill. I have one just like it, courtesy of outstanding bush poet, reciter, and storyteller from Down Under, Jack Sammon, who I had the pleasure of meeting at the National Cowboy Gathering in Elko, Nevada. I’ll probably never get to Australia to spend it. But I wouldn’t anyway, as I consider it a work of art. In fact, it is framed and hanging on the wall in my office.

The portrait on the note is of A.B. “Banjo” Paterson. Few would disagree that he is the finest poet Australia has ever produced, and his work is known the world over. Here in America, he is especially loved by aficionados of cowboy poetry.

You’ll notice the running horses and horseman on the bill. They’re illustrative of one of Paterson’s most famous poems, “The Man from Snowy River.” The first two lines of the poem appear along the bottom. And, if you have a microscope, you can read the entire text of the poem in microprint on the note as a security feature. You’re probably familiar with the poem and its celebration of courage and daring and what we would call “The Cowboy Way.” Clancy, a central character in the story, is also the subject of my favorite Paterson poem, “Clancy of the Overflow.” And he wrote the Australian folk anthem, “Waltzing Matilda,” which is also featured on the bill.

But I digress.

The promised wisdom?

Jack Sammon talked about the $10 bank note before reciting “The Man from Snowy River” at the Gathering. He said, “We’re kind of backward down in Australia compared to America—instead of politicians, we put poets on our money.”

Who do you think is backward?

Cowboy Poetry with Pickles.

Last week I had the good fortune to once again attend the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada. As usual, a good time was had by all. How could you go wrong reconnecting with old friends, meeting new ones, and sitting through hours (and hours and hours) of the best cowboy poetry and music the world has to offer?

This year brought an unexpected and unusual treat.

Fans of the “Pickles” comic strip know that on a few occasions, the curmudgeonly Earl Pickles has dipped his toes into the waters of cowboy poetry. As it happens, Brian Crane, the author and artist behind “Pickles,” is an old and dear friend and coworker and business partner. For some 40 years we have been close friends, if usually distant neighbors. When Earl was infected with poesy, I had the opportunity to work with Brian on some of his character’s poetic efforts.

Brian came to his first Gathering with, of course, Earl in his pocket, to breathe the rarified air at cowboy poetry’s heights. Not only was it good to see and spend time with Brian again, I got a big kick introducing him to friends and enjoying their shock and surprise then smiles when I told them what he did to earn his daily bread, as so many of them are “Pickles” fans. (It often embarrassed Brian and he wished I wouldn’t brag on him, but he well knows I am not to be trusted.)

I will be surprised if Earl’s poetic proclivities weren’t inspired by his time in Elko, and expect the funny papers will be seeing more of his versifying in the future.