It is loosely set into the stonework just south of the church doorway, and at less than a metre tall and barely wider than a hand, it could easily be mistaken for a stray piece of rubble by anyone not looking carefully.

Look closely at the upper portion of its south-west face, however, and the stone reveals itself as something far more deliberate. Shallow grooves cut into the surface form a linear Latin cross, and at two of the upper angles of the cross, small dots have been carved. The slab tapers toward its base, suggesting it was originally intended as a freestanding pillar rather than a flat marker, a form associated with early Christian sites across Ireland where simple incised crosses served as focal points for prayer or as grave markers. The carving style, restrained and geometric, is characteristic of early medieval stonework, and the stone's current position, half-buried and leaning, implies it was repurposed at some point as building material, its original function either forgotten or deliberately set aside.

The church into which it is set sits within the wider archaeological landscape of the Iveragh Peninsula, a region whose coastline and interior contain an unusually dense concentration of early Christian and prehistoric remains. The cross-slab itself is small enough that it rewards the kind of slow, deliberate looking that ancient carved stones generally require, especially in low or raking light, which throws the shallow grooves into relief and makes the incised cross legible in a way that flat midday sun simply does not.