The grave-markers here are uninscribed, many of them fallen or half-swallowed by overgrowth, and there is no official record of who lies beneath them. This is a cillín, a word that carries a great deal of Irish history in very few syllables. Cilліní were informal burial grounds used for unbaptised infants, and sometimes for others considered ineligible for consecrated ground, including suicides and strangers. Because Catholic doctrine once held that the unbaptised could not enter heaven, they were excluded from parish cemeteries, and so families buried them instead in liminal places, field edges, old earthworks, and sites like this one near Inch, where the ground had clearly been set apart for the purpose long before anyone living could remember.

The site occupies an area defined on one side by a slightly curving bank of earth and stone running roughly north-northwest to south-southeast, about 28 metres long, and on another by a raised stony area where the grave-markers are concentrated. At the interior stands a cross-slab, a flat stone carved or incised with a cross, a type of marker associated with early Christian burial practice in Ireland. What is quietly striking about this particular cillín is the spatial logic recorded by Dennehy in 1997: the uninscribed markers radiate outward from the cross-slab, suggesting that it served as a consistent focal point across the entire period of the site's use. Burials are recorded here up to the mid-twentieth century, meaning this place was still in active, if unofficial, use within living memory of people alive today. The local name for it, ceallúnach, is a variant term for such grounds, and points to a tradition of naming and acknowledging these sites even when the wider culture preferred not to discuss them.