What draws attention is not what is there but what is absent: the church that presumably once stood in the north-western corner of the enclosure has vanished entirely, leaving no visible stonework, no architectural fragments in the ground, and nothing embedded in the surrounding wall. The wall itself is heavily covered in ivy, which may conceal earlier material, but as things stand the site is a graveyard without a building, a churchyard whose church exists only by inference.

The roughly square enclosure is bounded by a stone wall and holds a sparse collection of nineteenth and twentieth-century headstones alongside some rough, unmarked stone markers. The absence of anything earlier is notable. Medieval and early modern burial grounds in Ireland frequently preserve fragments of carved stonework, grave slabs, or at least the footprint of a ruined nave, but here the pre-nineteenth-century record is simply blank above ground. Whether the church was demolished, absorbed into field walls, or left to collapse and disperse is not known. A holy well lies to the south-east of the site, which suggests a longer devotional history for the location than the surviving headstones alone would imply. Holy wells in Ireland were often associated with early Christian or even pre-Christian sacred sites, and their proximity to church ruins is common enough to be considered a pattern rather than a coincidence.