A woman at an outdoor concert finds herself sitting right behind a man she has been quietly admiring: the governor's bodyguard. The title tells us what she feels, and the poem plays it with a light, self-aware humor. She calls herself "an older woman," and her admiration has been happening "from afar," so there's a hint that this kind of looking is usually private and safe. Now he's close enough to see in detail.
What makes the poem funny and tender is how ordinary the details are. He eats marinated beef from a plastic box, then berries. He takes off his mirrored shades. His shirt is tight across his shoulders. The speaker watches all of it, and her distraction slips out in the line "Oh, has the music begun?" It's a small, wry moment: she's supposed to be at a concert, but she's paying attention to something else. The mood is playful, a little embarrassed, and quietly warm, with desire treated as something both silly and real.