Archaeologists who have examined it can say what it has: a polygonal stone chamber roughly 1.6 metres long and 1.1 metres wide, open to the north-east and covered by a single capstone. What they cannot say is what kind of tomb it is. The remains are simply too disturbed, too incomplete, to assign to any of the recognised types of Irish megalithic monument, whether portal tomb, court tomb, or wedge tomb. It sits in a mound measuring approximately 6.5 by 5.5 metres, partly swallowed by a field wall, which is how many such structures survive in the west of Ireland, quietly absorbed into the working landscape over centuries.

The chamber has been dug out at some point in the past, a common fate for prehistoric tombs, which were frequently excavated by curious landowners, treasure hunters, or early antiquarians long before any formal recording took place. The closing stone at the south-west end may not even be original, added or repositioned at some later date, which further complicates any attempt to understand the tomb's original form. These small uncertainties accumulate into something genuinely unresolved. Paul Gosling's Archaeological Inventory of County Galway, published in 1993, documented the site but could venture no further classification, and the monument remains in that ambiguous category of prehistoric remains that are clearly significant but archaeologically elusive.

The location, overlooking Cleggan Bay, places the tomb within a wider landscape of prehistoric activity along the Connemara coastline. The hillock setting is typical of megalithic monuments in the region, where elevated ground offered both visibility and, presumably, symbolic importance to the communities who built them several thousand years ago. The partial integration into a field wall is a reminder that these structures were not always treated as monuments by later inhabitants; they were simply large stones in a useful place.