Built from random rubble, the kind of loosely coursed stonework that relies on the skill of the builder rather than the uniformity of the material, it stretches roughly five and a half metres across the water on a northwest to southeast axis. What catches the eye, for anyone who looks closely, is the evidence of different periods of construction sitting alongside each other in plain sight.

The bridge rests on two segmental arches, each formed with roughly shaped voussoirs, the wedge-cut stones that lock together under compression to carry the load above. It is a functional, unshowy design typical of rural Irish bridgework, and the original masonry has been supplemented over time with concrete. A cutwater, the angled or rounded projection added to a pier to deflect the force of flowing water and reduce the risk of scour, has been added to the central pier in concrete, and the abutments at either end have been similarly reinforced. The result is a structure that reads as a kind of palimpsest, the older rubble fabric patched and bolstered by more practical twentieth-century interventions.