It is, in fact, a burial ground, and the fact that nobody recorded the names of the dead here is precisely what makes it quietly extraordinary. Between fifteen and twenty graves lie within its drystone boundary wall, their headstones plain and uninscribed, ranging in height from around twenty to forty centimetres. The graves themselves are slab-lined, meaning each burial was framed with flat stones set on edge to form a kind of stone box, a method associated with early medieval Irish burial practice. They vary in length from one metre to just under two, suggesting that children as well as adults were interred here. Nearly all of them are concentrated in the southern and western sectors of the enclosure, aligned roughly east-north-east to west-south-west.

The site measures roughly thirty-three metres on its longer axis and fourteen metres across, giving it an elongated oval plan that is typical of early ecclesiastical or pre-Norman burial grounds in the west of Ireland. Such sites often grew up around a now-vanished church or oratory, sometimes serving a single townland community over generations before falling out of use and out of memory. No inscription survives on any of the stones here, which may point to considerable age, or simply to a community that did not engrave markers, or to stones that have since been lost or overturned. Today the interior is heavily overgrown with ash trees and nettles, and the drystone wall that once defined the space is poorly preserved, making it easy to miss the enclosure's shape unless you are specifically looking for it.