memories of bulls
roaming the streets
at night
in the village
of your father
appear tonight
in my dream of you
remembering we two fresh
from the only bar
open so late
mesmerized by the sight
and bowing humbly
before them
like good foreign ambassadors
from lands to the west
not nearly as ancient
as this one
where bulls owned the streets
and residents slept
behind unlocked doors
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Leonard Durso 
Unlocked doors are a lifetime ago.
There are still those small villages where everyone knows each other and they feel perfectly safe. But that, too, is changing. We know too much of the world now, even in those small villages, because of the internet. And fear and mistrust have crept in.