The markers are there, set into the ground on the southern side of an oval enclosure, but none of them bear inscriptions. Whoever lies here was remembered, it seems, by presence rather than text, by the placing of a stone rather than the carving of one.

The enclosure itself is oval, roughly 36 metres north to south and 32 metres east to west, and it was already old enough to be mapped carefully when the Ordnance Survey recorded it in 1842, marking it with hachures, the cartographic convention used to show a raised or bounded area. By the 1904 revision it appeared simply as a subcircular field, the language already beginning to flatten what it contained. Around 1985, the stone bank that once defined the perimeter was largely levelled when the surrounding fields were cleared, and only the southeastern to northwestern stretch of the original bank survives to its earlier height of around 1.4 metres. That loss of boundary makes the southern interior section all the more significant: an area of roughly 22 metres east to west and 14 metres north to south that was left undisturbed, and where the uninscribed markers remain in place.

Unmarked grave slabs of this kind are found across Ireland, often associated with informal or pre-parochial burial traditions, sometimes linked to the interment of unbaptised infants in grounds known as cilliní, though whether that is the case here is not recorded. What is clear is that the enclosure was a recognised and bounded place of burial long before it was mapped, and that the decision not to disturb the southern section has preserved something that the surrounding landscape no longer holds.