The northeast wall has gone entirely, replaced only by a scatter of loose stones trailing off from the northwest corner, as though the building simply gave up on that side and let the landscape take over. What remains is unassuming by any measure, dry-stone rubble construction at its most unadorned, yet the structure holds its ground at up to one and a half metres high in places, and the view it commands to the northeast is wide and open in a way that feels deliberate.

The building measures roughly five and a half metres across and thirteen metres in length, oriented northwest to southeast. Five window openings are distributed between the two surviving long walls, three to the northwest and two to the southeast. Each is formed in the same rudimentary way: a single splayed sidestone on each side, topped with one or two flat lintels. There is no dressed stonework, no carved ornament. At the southwest end, a stone altar built from thin flat sandstone slabs is still partly visible beneath the collapse and encroaching vegetation. The altar's survival is quietly significant; in early Irish ecclesiastical buildings, the altar's position at the liturgical west end, as here, sometimes signals an unusual or regional arrangement. The interior is now choked with bracken and gorse, and the rock ridge sheltering the church to the south and west gives the site a hemmed-in, almost secretive quality despite its exposed setting.