It carries no name, no date, no carved cross, no decorative border. For a graveslab, an object whose entire purpose is to mark and memorialise, the silence is the thing that catches the attention.

The slab measures 1.2 metres high, 0.64 metres wide, and 0.16 metres thick, with bevelled edges, that small but deliberate finishing detail that suggests it was shaped by someone who knew what they were doing. Scholars have placed it tentatively in the 16th or 17th century, a period when Irish funerary stone-carving was producing some of its most elaborate regional work elsewhere. Here, nothing of that survives, if it was ever intended. Whether the inscription was simply never cut, or whether the stone was left unfinished, or whether whatever once marked its surface has been worn entirely smooth, is impossible now to say. A graveslab in this context is typically a flat or upright stone placed directly over or beside a burial, distinct from a raised tomb or chest monument, and the upright position of this one, leaning against the surviving church wall, may reflect later repositioning rather than its original placement.