Escape Claws

Once on a wind blown Pacific plateau,
held in a land that retained long ago,
I was a statue ‘neath predator’s sky,
frozen still as pterodactyls flew by.

Great pointed wing and a razor-sharp maw,
rip-roaring screech with a dangling hind claw.
Lords of the sky in a world time forgot,
strength of selection for all the prey sought.

(If I am to be reptilian prey,
  carried, cold-blooded, to caverns of gray,
  do me the mercy of long, pointed lance,
  rather than lingering, suspended dance.)

How prehistoric this island world yields!
Flying meat-eaters and dinosaur fields.
Potential morsel for leathery lord,
beast with a hunger and foot-long swift sword.

In my fear frozen I still had a look
at my surroundings ere I felt the hook.
And in the matted vine-bramble beneath,
I seized upon something shaped like a wreath.

It wasn’t much of a defensive ware,
but it beat going up holding the air.
So pterodactyl descended with zeal,
and I pushed up in a final appeal.

Then with a jolt I was lifted so quick,
head spinning madly and feeling quite sick.
But then I realized to my relief,
the pterodactyl had claws in the wreath!

And so I hung on as leather wings droned;
with laboring breath the reptile moaned.
Yet save for the cuts and pain in my hand,
I was still whole as we flew o’er the land.

My hold was slipping--no more to extend,
thus I made peace for a drop to my end.
But then below was a river of life,
so I let go and splashed in like a knife.

Carried by currents that flow from time‘s grip,
buoyed by some flotsam to a rescue ship.
And like a bottle picked up from the sea,
I was a message, elated to be.

[SR 10]  (Lines: 40)
Required prompt words:
--wind blown
--statue
--fields
--wreath
--bottle