The modern Roman Catholic church stands just to the south, a living successor that has quietly absorbed the congregation the older building once served, leaving its predecessor to subside into grass and stone.

What remains is slight but legible to a careful eye. A section of the south wall survives to some meaningful extent, running roughly sixteen metres, but the west gable and north wall have sunk to little more than grassed-over foundations. The east end of the building, which would originally have contained the chancel or altar wall, is the most ambiguous part of the ruin. A stone-built clearance cairn, the kind of low heap created when farmers or gravediggers gathered loose field stones and piled them out of the way, sits at this end of the church alongside considerable overgrowth, obscuring whatever wall line originally closed the structure. Two possible walls run north to south at this point, and it is genuinely unclear which, if either, marks the original east gable. The church itself measured somewhere between seventeen and a half and twenty metres in length and just over five metres wide, a modest but not unusual scale for a rural medieval or early post-medieval parish church in the west of Ireland. No architectural details, such as window mouldings, dressed stonework, or door surrounds, remain visible to help date or characterise the building further.