It is the kind of monument easy to walk past without quite registering what it is: a standing stone, the term used for prehistoric upright stones erected individually or in small groupings, whose original purpose remains genuinely unclear in most cases. Ritual, territorial marking, astronomical alignment, and commemoration have all been proposed by archaeologists, and the honest answer is that no single explanation covers every example.

This particular stone sits close to the northern edge of an east-west ridge, about sixty metres south of the River Suir, which runs more or less parallel to the ridge at this point. The stone is rectangular in plan and broadest in the middle, narrowing both upward to a point and downward to a slightly smaller rectangular base measuring roughly twenty-three by twenty-nine centimetres. Its surfaces are spawled, meaning the outer layer of the sandstone has flaked away in patches, and there are several significant fractures, including a pronounced crack on the south face about half a metre above ground level whose western end runs upward through the body of the stone. Chunks have also broken away at the south-west and north-west angles near the base. Despite all of this damage, both broad faces remain fairly flat, suggesting the stone was shaped or at least selected with some care. There are no packing stones visible around the base, which is unusual; many standing stones were wedged upright with smaller stones to hold them steady, and their absence here raises quiet questions about the original installation or about disturbance over time.

The stone sits immediately west of a field boundary, with a factory complex just on the other side to the east, making for an unexpectedly industrial backdrop to something that predates written Irish history by a considerable margin.