The space to the left of my building's door

TW: Description of a dead bird.

There are swaths of wet, bare
ground between stretches of grass, clover, 
winterweed, dandelions, and lots of a
plant I do not recognize whose leaves
are the shape of violet leaves. The bare ground
is filled with small rocks lodged in the 
surface. There are scattered, abandoned
fragments of cantaloupe. One is covered by
ants, another has a fly lounging on its flesh. 
Sprinklings of spherical blue-green pellets (more green than
blue) hide beneath
the groundcover and lay bright across
the open soil. The moss is mostly under the
plants. It's the edges of the plot that are
barest— the spaces alongside the sidewalk curb,
the brick walls of my apartment building. The
sides enclosed by the building corner are the 
south and east sides, while the west
stretches far with the pavement and
the north is exposed to the sidewalk edge
and the sun.

There's a dead bird on the plot,
too. Looks like a sparrow; small— could
fit easily in my cupped hands. It's on its
back, beak to the sky, right wing shifted
behind it on the ground against some grass while the left
wing stretches diagonally from its shoulder 
to its right abdomen's tailfeathers. 
The shoulder of the wing is disconnected
from the shoulder of its body—
break? rot?— and I can't tell what caused
the gap. There are no eyes or bugs, and
none of it moves when The Wind comes.
Not even its feathers. The fly left the
cantaloupe, but the other still has its ants.
The third fragment lies at the bottom of
one of those violet-shaped-leaf plans toward
the south side, bug-free. That plant is taller than
the rest.