The walls have long since collapsed or been absorbed into the earth, leaving a rectangular outline no higher than 1.3 metres at its tallest point and barely a tenth of a metre at its lowest. It is the kind of site that rewards a slow walk around its perimeter rather than a glance from a distance.

The structure, measuring roughly 17.7 metres east to west and 7.3 metres north to south, sits within an early ecclesiastical enclosure, a defined precinct of the sort that typically marks the earliest phases of Christian settlement in Ireland, often predating the formal parish system by many centuries. The burial ground itself remains in use or at least in memory around it. A writer named Bowman, noting the site in 1934, recorded that around six yards of the north wall and five yards of the west wall were still distinguishable at that time, though he located the church on the north side of the burial ground rather than the south, where later survey work placed the remains. Whether that discrepancy reflects the difficulty of reading such eroded features on the ground, or some genuine ambiguity in the physical evidence, is not entirely clear. The ruins sit approximately 17 metres from the western boundary of the burial ground and 14 metres from the southern boundary, coordinates that give a sense of how carefully later investigators tried to reconcile the two accounts.