It is roughly circular, somewhere between ten and twelve metres across, rising to about one and a half metres at its south-eastern side, with a domed profile that might read as natural at first glance. Two large stones protrude from the top, set close together, and the surface is uneven enough to suggest the mound was not carefully engineered. A low, spreading slope at its base, running from south to north-west, gives it a berm-like quality, as though the material beneath simply ran out gradually rather than being deliberately contained.

What the mound actually is remains genuinely open. It may be a field clearance cairn, the kind of practical accumulation that generations of farmers produced by dragging stones off cultivable ground and piling them in one spot. If so, it may also have taken advantage of a natural rise in the land, meaning the human contribution could be modest. Cairns of this type are common across the Irish countryside and are often mistaken for something older or more purposeful. The uneven surface and irregular appearance here do little to resolve the question either way. Adding a further layer of quiet ambiguity, an enclosure of some kind sits roughly seventy metres to the south-west, though whether the two features have any relationship to one another is unknown. In a landscape where prehistoric monuments, agricultural remnants, and natural topography can look very similar after a few centuries of grass growth, the mound at Killeenrevagh occupies exactly the kind of uncertain ground that makes this part of Ireland so difficult and so interesting to read.