Yusef Komunyakaa; Facing It

In Facing It Yusef Komunyakaa describes his experience at the Vietnam Memorial. A war memorial can evoke strong feelings for anyone, but for the speaker of the poem, a vet himself, the visit is painful struggle between many conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he must move on, not let the pain keep its paralyzing hold on him forever: “I said I wouldn't, dammit: No tears.” On the other hand, he is besieged with survivor’s guilt lest he forget those who died in his stead: “I go down the 58,022 names, half-expecting to find my own in letters like smoke. I touch the name Andrew Johnson; I see the booby trap's white flash”. Thirdly, he struggles to deal with the fact that a mere slab of granite can attempt to pay respects to a real life lost, to 58,022 lives lost: “Names shimmer on a woman's blouse but when she walks away the names stay on the wall.” We get to walk away, content with seeing the names, but they remain as they were, just a name to represent a whole life lost.
Komunyakaa uses strong imagery and contrast to reflect on his inner turmoil. He compares his face to the black granite, fighting to be cold and emotionless as the wall. From black he sees white; the flash of the booby trap, a white vet who lost his arm. (I wonder how the color of his friend is relevant.) He seems to describe the reflections on the wall as deceiving, his imagination and guilt (?) playing charades on his mind; his own reflection suspiciously becomes a bird of prey; a woman brushing a boy’s hair appears to be erasing the names; the black wall represents a mirror. Perhaps this mirror represents an alternative reality: In this real world, all there is is a cold, lifeless wall, but in the mind, the wall lives with the painful memories, a more just memorial perhaps. Perhaps the speaker is caught in between his painful conscience and his will to see things in better light. Life must go on. A mother brushing her son’s hair may seem indifferent to his pain, not having seen the war up close as he did, but in the simple maternal gesture also lies great beauty of life, perhaps reason to move on.

The Fish by Elizabeth Bishop; Who Caught The Fish?

In class last week, the general understanding was that Bishop is writing a poem about a fishing experience she had.
Yet, the contributing writers on the Bedford-St. Martin’s Virtualit site (Quentin Miller and Margaret Wald respectively) seem to take a very different approach. They refer to the fisher who's experience is recounted as a fictional second party. i.e. "the speaker" in the poem. As the first sample essay begins: "Elizabeth Bishop’s “The Fish” is a seemingly simple poem about a speaker who catches a fish, scrutinizes it, and lets it go."

http://bcs.bedfordstmartins.com/virtualit/poetry/fish_elements/fish_essay.pdf

http://bcs.bedfordstmartins.com/virtualit/poetry/critical_define/psychoessay.pdf

So is this poem based on fact or fiction? Did she catch a fish that looked as described (at least the literal parts of the description) who's usual appearance and hooks in his mouth inspired the symbolisms and the moral struggle described in the poem? Or did she create a story of a fictional fisher only to inspire them?