There are no names carved here, no dates, no legible record of who lies beneath. The markers occupy both the top of the bank and its inner face, as though the burials accumulated gradually, finding whatever space was available within the earthwork's margins.

This is a cillin, the Irish term for an unconsecrated burial ground used historically for unbaptised infants and others excluded from burial in holy ground by Catholic canon law. Such places were typically situated at the edges of older, pre-Christian features, including earthen enclosures, ringforts, and ancient boundaries, perhaps reflecting a folk belief that liminal spaces carried their own protective quality. The enclosure here predates the burials by an unknown span of time, but the two became bound together in local practice. According to community memory recorded in the early twentieth century by O'Flanagan, the site was still receiving burials within living memory of those interviewed, continuing in use until roughly fifty years before the late 1990s when it was formally catalogued. That places active use well into the twentieth century, a reminder that the custom persisted long after it is often assumed to have faded.

The site is described as poorly preserved, which is not unusual for cillíní. Because they fell outside the formal structures of parish record-keeping, they were rarely maintained in any official sense, and many have been absorbed gradually into farmland or overgrowth. The absence of inscriptions is equally characteristic; the markers here are stones rather than memorials in any conventional sense, their placement speaking to the care of grieving families working within a difficult set of religious and social constraints.