No foundations break the surface. A single loose fragment of window surround, just twenty centimetres high and still bearing its glazing-groove and bar-holes, survives as the only dressed stonework. The cross itself, likely a finial cross, meaning one originally placed at the apex of a gable or roof ridge rather than as a freestanding monument, is modest in scale: 0.48 metres tall, with a span of 0.31 metres, its stem and short arms cut to an octagonal section. The graveyard around it is D-shaped, roughly sixty metres across at its longest, defined on the northwest by a straight earthen bank and on the northeast by a lower one, with a path forming its southern and eastern boundary at the base of a gentle slope.

The church here has a documented history stretching back to the early fourteenth century, when it appeared in the ecclesiastical taxation of Pope Nicholas IV, compiled between 1302 and 1306. By 1622, the antiquary James Ussher noted that the building was in reasonable repair, though the chancel had already fallen into ruin. By the 1680s, the bishop Anthony Dopping recorded that both church and chancel were ruined and the site unenclosed, referring to it under the alias Killshangan as well as Killeconegan, a variation of the name still in use today. The church was dedicated to a figure recorded as St Kineth or Cionaodh, whose feast or pattern day fell on 16th November. The dedication is puzzling: the name and date do not correspond to any known entry in the Irish martyrologies, and scholars have suggested the name may be a local derivation associated with Colum Cille, one of the most widely venerated saints in the Irish tradition. A map drawn in 1767 and now held in the National Library of Ireland still shows the church marked on the landscape, decades after it had effectively ceased to function as a building. Headstones in the graveyard run from around 1770 to the present, meaning the site has remained in continuous use as a burial ground even as the church itself disappeared.