In the early twentieth century, a writer named Coleman recorded that many of its graves were marked not by stone but by decayed wooden crosses, a practice that leaves almost no trace once the timber rots away. Those graves are, in effect, invisible now, their occupants commemorated by nothing that survives. The oldest legible headstones date from 1772, but the wooden crosses suggest a much longer and quieter history lying underneath.

The graveyard sits on the north side of the road at Kilcully, enclosed within a roughly rectangular earthen bank faced with stone, a form of boundary that in Irish contexts often signals considerable antiquity. Within it, towards the northern part of the enclosure, stand the ruins of the parish church of Kilcully itself. Parish churches of this kind were typically medieval foundations, and their ruined shells frequently continued to anchor local burial grounds long after the building itself fell out of use. That pattern holds here: the graveyard is still in active use today, meaning the living and the long-dead share the same bounded ground, separated by centuries but not by any fence.