Dave Bonta's three-line poem describes a rainy morning, and it does so with one odd, memorable image: the day arrives wearing a white wig. The picture suggests a pale, hazy light, maybe mist or low cloud, and the wig adds something faintly comic and old-fashioned, as if morning were a judge or an aristocrat making a slow entrance.
The next lines widen the view. Rain becomes "a country," a whole landscape, and it has "fallen late and high." That phrase is open to interpretation. It could mean the rain came after a long wait, and that it fell on high ground, or from high in the sky. Either way, the sense is of weather that is large and settled in.
The speaker doesn't state a feeling outright. Judging by the title, "Waterbound," they seem held in place by the wet, and the mood is quiet, hushed, and a little whimsical. It feels like being stuck indoors and watching the world turn gray and white.