The stone is a tapering, coffin-shaped slab with a chamber running along the top, and it sits partially embedded in the ground, tilted upright as though it never quite settled. Much of the surface has worn smooth over the centuries, but the figure remains legible enough to unsettle, a recognisable human face emerging from eroded medieval stone.

The scholar John Hunt, writing in 1974, dated the carving to the thirteenth century and noted its worn, abraded condition even then. It is one of a small group of similar slabs recorded at this site. Writing in 1905, the historian William Carrigan counted roughly half a dozen coffin-shaped, uninscribed slabs in the graveyard, all bearing incised crosses and several with carved human heads in relief. Graveslabs of this type, sometimes called figural or portrait slabs, were a feature of high-status medieval burial across Ireland and Britain, though uninscribed examples like these leave the identity of the individuals commemorated entirely unknown. The woman's face carved here, framed by that loose, depicted hair, may have been intended as a likeness, or simply as a devotional image, the distinction is not always clear in medieval funerary art, and nothing in the surviving stone answers the question.